


Tochmarc Étaíne

by 1940slady



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1940slady/pseuds/1940slady
Summary: 15 years since Sarah's time in the Underground and the mirror has been silent. She has moved on with her life and is engaged to a man named Rhys but her life is turning upside down as she is still plagued with nightmares of her time in the Underground and leaves to the one place the dreams cannot follow to her Gran in Ireland. But Sarah should know someone is always watching.
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams (Labyrinth)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	Tochmarc Étaíne

Sarah stared at the ceiling, hearing the ticking clock next to her, almost as a death knell of the thirteenth hour. She looked over at the time, 5:50 p.m. and then stared back at the woman sitting across from her on the burnt orange sixties monstrosity they called a chair. Ten more minutes and she could leave and get a latte at the coffee shop downstairs. Her psychologist, Gwen had her brown hair tied up in a neat bun and she was writing in a chart, a chart with Sarah’s name on it. She often wondered what she wrote about her, if she thought she was crazy for dreaming about a Goblin King, if she took Freud’s perspective and thought she had repressed sexual feelings for her father or some shit like that. She sighed; she hated coming here lately. Why did she still come to these sessions?

“Sarah, you didn’t answer my question.”

Sarah was silent a long moment before answering, “Maybe I can’t.” 

“Or you don’t want to.” She looked at her pointedly over the rim of her tortoiseshell glasses.

“I like Rhys. He’s…nice.”

“Sarah, girls like you don’t marry _nice_ boys.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Though she already knew the answer to that question. Sarah had been craving more passion, more darkness in her life ever since her time in the Underground. It had led her to some unhealthy relationships and dark nights that left her broken and bleeding by men who had loved her submissiveness. Rhys had been the first who hadn’t touched her in that way, the first to be kind instead of cruel. She missed the cruelty at times lately. She longed for it. It was a contention point in her sessions and why she and Gwen had come to a head on more than one occasion over the matter.

“Close your eyes.” Gwen instructed. Sarah looked at her with a bit of apprehension but after a moment she conceded. “Now I want you to imagine a tall blonde man holding you in his arms.” Sarah saw Rhys, his short blonde hair in a classic crew cut, his tall frame wrapped around her body in a firm hug. She felt safe but there wasn’t any passion in the hug, there had not been any for some time now and she couldn’t find the reason why. “What color are his eyes?”

Two mismatched blue ones popped into her vision and her eyes shot open, her breathing quickening. Gwen nodded slightly in acknowledgement acting as if she knew exactly what Sarah had imagined.

“It was just a dream!” Sarah clutched her temple, trying to will the vision away. “You said it yourself. He’s not real.” But even as she said the words, she knew she didn’t believe them to be true.  
“Yes, but even if he isn’t real, you obviously have some latent feelings from your past that are unresolved and are now haunting your current relationships. Sarah, you have been seeing me on and off for nearly fifteen years now, I think it’s high time you faced your demons.”

 _You mean demon_.

“How do I face a dream?”

“By acknowledging your baser instincts and dark thoughts. You wanted to get rid of your little brother, what child doesn’t? Your mother was gone. Your father had his hands full with a new baby and a new wife. You must have been feeling lonely and looking for someone to pay attention to your needs, your wants. There is nothing to be ashamed of in that regard.”

She felt her cheeks redden. “Are you saying I wanted his advances?” She perished the thought. “I was only fifteen, a girl!”

“A girl on the cusp of womanhood.”

“This is ridiculous. I did NOT dream him up as some sort of sick sexual plaything. How dare you even suggest that!” She stood up abruptly and grabbed her bag and coat beside her. “I think we are done here.”

“You can’t keep running forever, Sarah. You will have to face him eventually.” She said as she walked out the door.

Sarah clenched her teeth as she walked down the marbled hall of the old state building. She punched the button to the elevator door and threw her olive-green windbreaker on, crossing her arms and hugging herself. The building was warm, too warm for something built so long ago. Weren’t building like these supposed to be drafty? A sudden chill came over her in the too warm hall and she shivered. She punched the button again, punch. Punch. Punch. Her eyes darted around the hall, the dark wood of the paneling and doors stark against the white paint and marble floor. Something didn’t feel right, her palms began to sweat. What was taking the elevator so long?

Her breathing quickened as the panic began to set in. The panic attacks that had continued from a half-remembered dream. A dream of a glittered forest, a labyrinth, a stolen child and _Him_.

 _No. This was not happening. Not again. It was just a dream. A dream_.

The elevator dinged and she nearly flew onto the metal contraption, pulling the old gate shut and pressing the button to the first floor, settling herself into the far-right corner. She adjusted the leather strap of her bag on her shoulder, willing her breathing to slow, she took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled closing her eyes. Her heart was palpitating so quickly she could feel it in her throat. She swallowed. She felt the rush of the elevator as it began its descent. That’s when the lights began to flicker.

“Shit. No. Not now.”

The lights went out and the elevator came to a dead stop.

Sarah yelped. She backed up into the far corner trying to make herself as small as possible. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her mouth suddenly dry. “This can’t be happening. This is NOT happening.” Her mind raced back to a thirteen-hour day and being trapped in the oubliette, not knowing where she was, not being able to see her hand in front of her face, the darkness so complete and no dwarf to save her this time.

She was trapped.

Her breathing increased, she had to get out. Her mind reeled and she began to move slowly along the wooden wall of the elevator toward the call box.

Something brushed her ankle and she screamed.

All semblance of clam lost, she dropped her bag and rushed to the elevator doors, pounding on them furiously.

But the wood doors were gone, she pounded on something soft and firm, her fingers touching loose folds of fabric. She dropped them immediately. 

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat at the familiar chuckle. She froze, the smell of the elevator changing from metal and stale air to something cleaner and spicier, like freshly fallen snow tinged with a hint of magic. _His_ smell.

_No. This was not happening. He was not here. It’s just a dream. Just a dream._

_I’ll show you your dreams._

_No._

_This isn’t real._

She let out a silent breath of air she had been holding onto and flexed her hands, her palms sweating. What would she do if he was here, after all this time? Would she slap him for frightening her? Break his bones for leaving her here in the Aboveground alone, longing for him? Rush to embrace him after all this time? She willed herself to reach out again, her fingers trembling, to touch, waiting for the feel of fabric and skin again but instead found the hard wood of the door panel was there. She exhaled loudly and lifted her eyes to the ceiling in thanks. Her mind was playing tricks on her. The lights flickered and turned back on; the elevator started its descent once again.

She was alone and thankful for it.

Sarah shook her head. June 26. Fifteen years, fifteen years to the day next week and there had been nothing after that first night. No contact from the Underground, no crystals, no owls, no goblins, no Hoggle or Ludo or Sir Didymus…nothing. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was completely a dream, but she had wanted to forget. Forget the adventure, the heart-pounding exhilaration of it all, of having her dreams so close within her grasp and losing them completely. Why had they not contacted her? Now there was only the quiet at night and the nightmares that had terrorized her. Sarah would awake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and screaming. A pair of mismatched eyes chasing her, always chasing her through a misty forest. A sinister presence following her, leaving her feeling exposed, stalked and unable to shake an ever-growing uneasiness. The nightmares were so bad, she would take sleeping pills to rid herself of their grasp. She couldn’t sleep without them.

After that first night, she and Karen were on better terms then they had been before. Karen’s motherly concern had convinced her to seek out counseling and she would send her every summer to her maternal Gran in Kentstown, County Meath, Ireland. When she stayed there, her nightmares would always subside until she had to come back to the States. Maybe it was time to think about seeing her Gran again.

The elevator doors dinged, she grabbed her bag from the floor and stepped off into the light of the marble-tiled hall. The security guard sat at a desk near the front door. She walked over to him.

“You might want to get someone to look at that elevator, it stopped mid descent with me in it and the lights went out.”

He looked at her curiously.

“The elevator I just came out of.” She indicated.

“Yes, I know.”

“Well aren’t you going to at least write it down or something?”

He scowled. “Ma’am I don’t know what you are talking about, I watched the screen the entire time and nothing happened while you were in the elevator, you came straight down.”

“What? That’s not true! The lights went out, I’m telling you!”

“Look, missy, it’s like I told ya, nothing happened. I was here the whole time.”

“Can I see the feed?”

He growled. “I don’t have access to the security system until my shift change. I will have to dig it up, it will take time.”

She grabbed a pen from the desk and wrote down her email address. “Here. I can wait. I’d like to see it if its all the same to you.”

“Fine.” She watched as he pocketed the piece of paper. At least he had the decency to not throw it away in her presence. She wondered if he would actually send it to her. She gave him a slim smile and a nod then turned and walked out of the building.

Walking to the very next block, she entered the coffee shop, putting her hands in her pockets, and prepared herself to wait in a very long line. Sarah sighed and pulled her left hand out, looking at the emerald engagement ring there, letting it glint in the light as she turned it. She wondered why she had ever said yes to Rhys’s request to marry her.

_Rhys is safe._

He would never hurt her at least he had never shown any inclination toward it over the last year. They had met last year on campus while she was finishing her doctorate. She had gone back after spending a few years as a catalog librarian at the university, what she had really wanted was to be the main archivist for the rare book collection they had on campus. Her doctorate was on the myths and legends of the Tuatha de Dannan of Ireland and her work for it had landed her as an assistant to the archivist, Professor Rhys, ten years her senior.

Her father and Karen had been troubled by the match at first, reminded of Sarah’s earlier exploits in men and how she had been used in the past, but they warmed quickly to his polite and quiet manners. Rhys hailed from Wales being Irish and Welsh in origin, though he had been in the States so long now he had lost most of his brogue. They both had a lot of the same interests, they loved to read, drink coffee and tea, go out for a good craft beer on cold winter nights, they loved to stay up late into the night and sleep in during the day. They poured over literature, history and art like true nerds, getting excited about old manuscripts and sharing their knowledge of past lore. He wore black framed glasses and his eyes, though blue like a certain someone, were so misty they looked nearly grey. The color of his hair and eyes were where the similarities between Rhys and the Goblin King ended, however, though Rhys was tall he was extremely broad in the shoulders and chest. His jawline was more square-shaped, and he always sported a neatly trimmed, fine mustache and goatee that never seemed to be fully grown. She smiled as she thought of him.

So why did she have the nagging feeling lately that their marriage in two months filled her with dread?

She finally stepped up to the coffee bar and ordered a latte and a croissant. The boy behind the counter handed her the change and a receipt and she sat down at a table to wait for her order.

Why was she acting like this? She hadn’t heard a peep from the Underground since she left. Why was she being so jumpy now? There was nothing to be afraid of…really.

A pair of mismatched eyes haunted her and her heart leapt into her throat.

Okay, so he did set her on edge still, even at nearly thirty years old, the Goblin King made her go weak in the knees. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that last fateful day. She often wondered if she would ever see him again in this life. She doubted not. Especially when the days and months had turned into years and there had been nothing but silence. She had called out their names after that first night many times. She had screamed, she had pounded her fists against her mirror and thrown things at it till it shattered, she cried and even said the words. Nothing.

Now she avoided mirrors as much as she was able.

A young boy brought over her croissant and latte. “I’ve brought you a gift…” he smiled with sharper teeth then normal.

She nearly yelped again and took a gulp of air.

Sarah did a quick double-take, but he had turned his back already and was walking away.

Yes, it was definitely time to go back to Ireland and see her Gran. Now she would just have to convince Rhys that she needed some time away from him two months before the wedding.

This would not bode well.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of the Labyrinth. Rhys is mine.


End file.
